Good Guys and Monsters
by Aradatm
Summary: Vampire AU: He stared her down, defiance burning in his eyes. "I'm not going to pull the trigger," he said gently, "but only if you do as I say." She nodded. "Run, Prentiss." Then, slowly, he released his hold on her. Hotch/Prentiss. Team-centric.
1. Preface

**A/N: **I will update **In the Face of Evil **as soon as I can. I'm just throwing out random fanfiction ideas on here. I really wish there were more Hotch stories on this site. If I continue this story, though, it will contain all of the cast. I won't make this into Prentiss and Hotch only. Thanks for taking the interest to read this. And yes, I realize I'm making Hotch into a bad guy in these stories but he is my favorite character - I'm not bashing him.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Criminal Minds.

**Warnings: **This is a vampire alternate universe, this will be Hotch and Prentiss pairing, there will most likely be OOC because of the AU, there might be typos and grammar problems and cursing. This will be team-centric. Beware of these warnings.

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**Good Guys and Monsters**

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**Summary:**

Vampire AU: He stared her down, defiance burning in his eyes. "I'm not going to pull the trigger," he said gently, "but only if you do as I say." She nodded. "Run, Prentiss." Then, slowly, he released his hold on her. Hotch/Prentiss. Team-centric.

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**Preface**

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**August 2001**.

**He **watched her closely, carefully – as if trying to gauge her every little movement.

Prentiss could see the defiance burning in his eyes. She licked her lips. "You got me, it seems," she tried for conversation. "It takes a lot to outwit a profiler, you know."

He shrugged. "It wasn't so hard," he spoke softly. He fell back into silence.

Prentiss needed to keep him speaking. She pressed on. "But it is. You must have planned this for weeks, maybe even months," she said, feigning excitement.

He frowned. "I didn't plan anything." He stared at her – now she could see the annoyance in the dark orbs. He edged closer to her. "You were becoming a nuisance I had to take care of."

Prentiss tried to press back into the chair. "How was I becoming a nuisance? I didn't even know you killed those people at the time." She wondered when she would cross the line.

That seemed to set him back a little – he furrowed his brows in apparent confusion. "You didn't know then," he muttered. Then, he got up. "But you do now." He started to smile at her – bitter, cold.

He walked behind her. Prentiss tried to suppress the urge to turn. "What are you doing?"

She felt his fingers caress her hair. He leaned over her – his shadow engulfing her. "I have a gun with me, Prentiss," he admitted calmly.

Prentiss felt the familiar jab of cold metal touch the back of her neck.

Fear rushed up her spine.

"I won't press down on the trigger," he said gently, "but only if you do as I say."

She tried to hold back a shiver. "What do you want?"

He was silent for a moment – contemplating. "I want you to run, Prentiss. I want you to get as far away from here as you can and never look back. I want you to forget about this – forget about me."

"I can't do that," she said as evenly as she could.

The gun was pressed further into her skin. "Don't scream. Don't make a sound. Just run." His voice was menacing, dangerous.

Prentiss gulped down the bile rising up her throat. "You can just shoot me here. Why let me go?"

He didn't reply. Instead, she felt his hand ghost over her arms. Then, it drifted to rest on the rope binding her wrists together. Slowly, the man untied them. "Because I can."

"That's not a good reason," she said. "I know you're a murderer now. What's to stop me from pursuing you?"

He sighed and crouched down to take care of her ankles, "You can chase me all you want, Prentiss," he met her eyes, "but you can't stop me."

Prentiss willed herself to stare him down. "What makes you think I can't?"

He gave her a bitter smile. "Because no one has yet." He then released the final rope that bound her to the chair and two things happened all at once – things that Prentiss would never forget.

She made to stand up quickly but he was faster – he grabbed her wrists tightly, letting his nails dig into her flesh. "What the hell are you doing?"

She tried to squirm out of his grasp but his grip was that of steel.

"What the hell were you _going_ to do?" he asked back smoothly.

He was suddenly in her face – his breath mixing with her own. Prentiss continued to struggle.

However, what he said next stopped her cold. "Tell me, do you believe in vampires?" She looked at him, eyes wide.

Fear started to sink in now.

He smiled widely at her – showing elongated fangs. "Now will you run, Prentiss?"

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	2. Chapter One: Two Months Back

**A/N: **I keep forgetting that the fanfiction site changes the font style and size. I was eager when it looked long (four or five pages long) on Microsoft Word but here, it doesn't look like much. I'm trying to do long chapters (How can people write 10k words for one chapter anyway?) but it's hard for me so I'm sorry if this is short for you guys. Anyways, thanks for taking the interest - I seriously didn't think people would like the idea or preface - to read this story so far. I really wasn't sure if I should continue with this idea but something did hit me today and your reading this encouraged me as well. Read and enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Criminal Minds.

**Warnings: **Vampire AU, Hotch/Prentiss pairing, Team-centric, OOC (because of the AU - but hopefully not that much), Grammar/Spelling typos, and cursing. Be warned.

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**Good Guys and Monsters**

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**Summary:**

Vampire AU: He stared her down, defiance burning in his eyes. "I'm not going to pull the trigger," he said gently, "but only if you do as I say." She nodded. "Run, Prentiss." Then, slowly, he released his hold on her. Hotch/Prentiss. Team-centric.

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**Chapter One: **Two Months Back

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**June 2001**

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**Emily Prentiss **wasn't sure what the hell possessed her to take up on "doctor" Spencer Reid's offer on just grabbing a 'quick' bite to eat and chat at the local café with him and their colleague, Derek Morgan. It certainly had not ended up as a 'quick' anything when Reid had eagerly ordered cup after cup of coffee with more than a dozen little packets of sugar to go with them.

It was when he started to talk animatedly about a star trek episode to Morgan (who seemed to have taken it up as his duty to argue against every little shred of detail and point Reid tried to pass across to the two of them about said show) and his third cup in that she realized that something was amiss and she narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, putting her foot down at long last. "Okay, guys," with her arms crossed over her chest, she threw them her meanest glare, "what's going on here? You don't normally invite me to these sorts of things."

The two stopped at once and turned almost simultaneously, to face her and it had looked so comical (with Morgan opened-mouthed, in the middle of a sentence and Reid with wide eyes – the 'deer-caught-in-headlights' look on his face) that she had to fight back the urge to laugh. She couldn't stop the slight twitching of her lips, however. "I have to go back in soon," she said almost impatiently, shooting a quick glance at the clock for emphasis. "Was there a particular reason for the invitation?"

Morgan clamped his mouth shut. He stared at Reid before shrugging. Prentiss narrowed her eyes even more, trying her best to hold back a sigh – the sigh that people always let out to show how irritated or exasperated they were.

Reid fidgeted in his seat before taking a sip – a long sip – of his coffee. Then he licked his lips nervously and Prentiss just barely resisted the sudden urge to roll her eyes as she waited for him to answer. "We thought it would be a good idea for you to get out more," he said finally, his voice quiet.

Prentiss wasn't sure what she was expecting to hear – but certainly it wasn't this and she felt her eyebrows raise in response. "You thought it was a good idea for me to get out more," she repeated slowly, as if unsure of what she had heard.

Reid nodded. He took another gulp from his cup and placed it down before adding another packet of sugar – Prentiss found herself eyeing it wearily as he did so. Then he stirred his spoon in, "No offense, Prentiss, but we don't see you get out much. Morgan and I had this discussion the other day," and he paused there when the man in question snapped his head up to stare pointedly at the doctor. He ignored him and continued to stir, completely undeterred, "We made a little bet, you see."

Prentiss could only gape silently at his outward confession – he didn't look the least bit sorry either.

"He didn't think I could get you to come out with us," Reid shot her a grim smile, "but as you already know…I _can _be pretty persuasive when I want to be, right, Prentiss?" Morgan slammed down a twenty dollar bill on top of the table. "Thank you," Reid quickly tucked it into his pocket.

Prentiss wasn't sure what offended her more – the bet itself or the underlying accusation that her social life was near non-existent (if it had to be pointed out by the most socially-awkward person on the face of this planet, then she knew it must be pretty _sad_). She tried not to shudder at the very horrifying thought, "I do too go out."

The two men exchanged a look that Prentiss could read very clearly as the 'I-don't-think-she-gets-it' look and she tried not to let too much of the annoyance she felt inside show visibly on her face. "Prentiss," her stare turned to Morgan, "you spend almost twenty-four seven at the BAU."

She began to protest but Reid pounced. "If they allowed it, you'd sleep there," he quipped.

Prentiss glowered at him and Reid took interest in his coffee once again, adding more sugar into it. "I don't work constantly," she said indignantly. "I do have a life outside of the BAU."

"It must be a very small life then," the genius said before he could stop himself. His face reddened immediately, "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

Prentiss rolled her eyes. "Relax, Reid. I won't bite your head off."

That seemed to do the trick – Reid's face lit up again and then his mouth was moving a mile a minute, "Have you guys seen any new movies this year? I think **Pearl Harbor **had to be one of my favorite."

Morgan grinned in amusement. "When did you find the time to go see a movie?" he asked slyly.

The genius knitted his brows together and thought back, "Last Friday actually."

Prentiss looked mildly surprised at this. If she remembered correctly, they had just gotten back from a rough case that involved a man killing his whole family in an insane delusion where he thought he was doing the work of God – it turned out he had not always been that way and the death of a close family member helped trigger the more than screwed up reasoning and hallucination (they always seemed to have some kind of excuse for being a monster). She had found herself edgy that whole week. When the hell did the doctor find time to do anything that weekend?

"I find that if I'm kept busy with something - like watching a movie - it helps distract me from thinking about _other _things too much," Reid seemed to be reading her like a book these days. Prentiss blew out a sigh. "You guys should give it a try. It really helps." He offered them a shy smile.

Prentiss couldn't help but share a glance at Morgan. Morgan burst out laughing, "You talking about me and her, kid?"

Reid shrugged and sipped the last remnants of his coffee. He grimaced, as if finally realizing the amount of sugar he had consumed all together that afternoon. Prentiss went a little red and sputtered, "He doesn't mean us together." She tried a glare on Morgan but it only made him laugh harder. "Why are you even laughing anyway?" It came out a lot colder than she had meant and immediately, the man stopped and stiffened up. "Is it really that funny to think about going out with me?"

Now Morgan was the one left baffling, "No, of course not, Prentiss. I was just thinking," then he froze in mid-sentence, catching himself just in time and Prentiss knew that Morgan was clearly _not_ thinking out his words at all (Garcia was right about his mouth and she grimaced). If he could blush, he most likely would have done just that by now.

"I think I've had enough of this," she said bitterly. She then got up to go, stealing a glance at the clock and almost cursed aloud. Instead, she grabbed her purse and walked briskly out the door.

She almost staggered back when the humidity of the summer took her by complete surprise – it felt as if she had suddenly stepped into a burning oven. Prentiss would have fallen over had it not been for a sudden pair of cold, clammy hands steadying her from behind. "You okay there?" She nearly jumped at the sound of the voice – had the person not been holding her, she was certain she very much would have.

"I'll let you go if you promise not to knock me over," the voice continued.

There was a hint of amusement laced to those words that Prentiss couldn't help but notice.

She bit her lip and nodded slowly, completely unsure of what to do in situations like these. Then, a moment later, she was released and she spun around on her heels to meet her rescuer face-to-face.

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	3. Chapter Two: The Tourist

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Criminal Minds.

**Warnings: **Vampire AU, Hotch/Prentiss pairing, Team-centric, OOC (because of the AU - but hopefully not that much), Grammar/Spelling typos, and cursing. Be warned.

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**Good Guys and Monsters**

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**Summary:**

Vampire AU: He stared her down, defiance burning in his eyes. "I'm not going to pull the trigger," he said gently, "but only if you do as I say." She nodded. "Run, Prentiss." Then, slowly, he released his hold on her. Hotch/Prentiss. Team-centric.

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**Chapter Two: **The Tourist

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**June 2001**

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**Prentiss **was not accustomed to drooling or staring outright at a man – as much as she hated to agree with doctor 'I-can't-keep-my-mouth-shut-to-save-my-life' Reid, she really had no life outside of the BAU. Which, as it turned out, meant barely any time to go out to the bars to catch the eye of a _true_ man(that was what JJ and Garcia called those extremely 'do-able' guys they dragged back from the said bars) to even hold an intellectual conversation with, let alone a casual _fuck_ (she haven't had _any_ sex in what seemed like forever now that she thought about it).

She was beyond horrified when she felt the faint tickling sensation pushing slightly, on her lips, trying desperately to get out. Then, dear God, she was drooling – Emily freakin' Prentiss was _drooling_. The thin river of water was trickling down from between her pursed lips and immediately, she found herself wiping at it furiously – the mantra, 'Emily freakin' Prentiss did _not _drool' repeating in her head. Prentiss was relieved that Morgan and Reid were still in that run-down hellhole of a café they invited her to – surely those two would never let her live this one down.

But damn, she really couldn't help herself – her tightened grip on self-control all going down into the gutter.

The man that stood before her was utterly, undeniably _gorgeous_. Or maybe _hot _was the better word to use because damned her to hell for saying – admitting – to this but boy did he look completely _hot_ with that white tee-shirt sticking (thank _fucking_ God for the humidity) like paste to his well-toned body. He was a stud; a fucking _hot_, _gorgeous_, _stud_ with blonde hair and soft, brown eyes and pointed chin and full, red lips curved into an amused grin.

Then she caught herself and almost choked out a laugh. Since when the hell did she prefer men with blonde hair anyway? Then, another thought settled to the front of her mind, much more demanding than the last. Since when did Emily Prentiss, the most uptight woman that worked in the BAU – aside from Erin Strauss – think about men at all?

People often called her a workaholic because she put in more time into the BAU than anyone else there, more so than even her unit chief, Jason Gideon and boy did everyone at the FBI know him to be the most passionate and dedicated profiler to ever live.

Still, she could appreciate a good-looking body every once in a while, couldn't she? Even if she was a workaholic, she was still a human-being; a totally, straight _female_ human-being.

"You sure you're okay?"

The words drifted to her ears and, reluctantly, she pulled away from her thoughts. Prentiss forced her eyes up to meet his – she didn't even realize she had been staring at his chest (his well-tanned chest through his well-plastered tee-shirt) the whole time. "I...uh," she bit her lip, "yeah, I'm fine – I'm okay. Totally okay." She heard him chuckle and heat suddenly burned her cheeks. "What did you say your name was again?"

His mouth curved into a grin and he brushed his hand modestly through his hair, "Actually I didn't." Prentiss was certain her face would incinerate any moment now. "My name's Sean." That same hand that had been lightly touching the top of his head extended to her, "Sean Hotchner. Call me Sean."

She took it awkwardly. "Right. Sorry. I'm Emily Prentiss," she paused, about to tell him to call her Prentiss (everyone else did it, what made him special?) but she realized quickly it would be a little more than strange for him to be on a last-name basis with her while she got to call him by his first name. Prentiss gave him a crooked smile. "Emily."

His grin broadened (Prentiss wasn't exactly sure how that was even possible – he had the widest smile she ever knew anyone to have). "Cool." And he shook her hand briefly before letting go and tucking it away into his jean pocket. "So, Emily, do you live around here?"

Prentiss raised a brow, taken by surprise at the question. "Do I…" she abruptly stopped, trying to process it. "Why? You don't?" The strange look suddenly coming on his face was a heavy indicator to the obvious (it didn't even have to take a profiler to realize he was completely clueless). "Well, no," she said after a moment. "I live in Washington but Quantico is where I work."

Sean nodded. He started to walk down the walkway (coincidentally the same direction Prentiss had been heading to her car), "So you know this place, as in familiar with it." He talked to her as if he somehow knew she would be following – though Prentiss wasn't that surprised he seemed confident.

"I suppose you can say that," she said, effortlessly catching up with his long strides. "Why? Did you want to know where something was?"

Sean shrugged. "What if I did?" He glanced over at her, eyes bright with amusement.

Prentiss bit her lips. "What are you looking for?" she asked carefully.

He faltered a step but caught himself a moment and Prentiss compartmentalized it for later use – because if there was one thing she learned when working at the BAU, there was never useless information. Sean's good-natured laugh brought her out of her thoughts, "Yeah, Emily. I'm looking for a good restaurant around here. Know any places?" he winked at her.

Prentiss felt her cheeks heat up (yet again). "I…well," she paused and scrunched her face up. "Are you hungry?" she asked lamely.

Sean laughed. "Yeah. I'm actually starving right now." He grinned at her. Prentiss stared back. "Got any recommendations?"

They stopped in front of another café. Prentiss could see her car parked on the curb now. Sean looked at her expectantly before whipping out his cell phone from his pocket – she didn't even notice his hand move. He held up a hand in a silent gesture that could only be read as 'one minute please' and put the phone to his ear. "Hey."

After a moment, Sean was walking briskly away from her down the walkway. He came back to Prentiss after five minutes, slamming the phone shut and sliding it into his jean pocket. "Sorry about that – had to take the call," he said quietly.

Prentiss pretended not to notice the sudden change in behavior and replied with a simple, "It's fine." He gave her a brief smile. "It must have been pretty important."

He nodded, shoulders slumping slightly and Prentiss compartmentalized the action for later use – because if there was one thing she learned when working in the BAU, it was that no information was useless. He straightened after a moment, as if realizing what she had already seen, "I have to go."

Prentiss feigned surprise, her brow rising in her forehead. "Didn't you want some recommendations?"

Sean suddenly grinned and shook his head. "Yeah but it'll have to wait 'til next time. I really have to go." He slipped his hand into his other pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to her. "Whenever you're free, let me know."

Prentiss took it and unraveled it. Inside was a series of numbers scrawled neatly in red ink. Prentiss looked back at him. "You wrote this ahead of time?"

Sean's grin widened. "You never know when these things can come in handy."

"You know it's dangerous handing random people your phone number, don't you?" was her response.

Sean chuckled. "I know, Emily." He started to walk again, leaving Prentiss standing near the black SUV. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Prentiss didn't reply. She looked down at the paper – something was off about that guy. When she looked back up, Sean was long gone. She fished her hand into her purse and pulled out her cell. There was only one person to call in times like these.

"Hey, Garcia. I need you to look up a name for me. Sean Hotchner. Tell me what you can come up with."

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